


a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away…

by prettyshiroic (kcgane)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Comedy, Implied Romance, M/M, Shiro is Tired, Star Wars References, a lot of carly rae jepsen was listened to in the making of this, a series of non-date dates, he knows. he just knows, i like making canon references in modern day settings, lance and keith's friendship makes me happy, spontaneous fun fic i have no regrets this was fun, sunny writes something kind of fluffy for once, their dialogue ends me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-26
Updated: 2017-10-26
Packaged: 2019-01-23 09:02:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12503792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kcgane/pseuds/prettyshiroic
Summary: “Look, exam season is approaching. I’m going through stuff, you’re going through stuff.”Lotor laughs at that, it’s a delicate refined sound. Bell-like yet crisp, a vast contrast to the intense raw rasp embedded in Keith’s voice.“You know what? There’s only one thing to do.” Keith bites his lip, a wave of apprehension faltering his composure. This is silly and completely reckless. It’s the most heedless thing he’s done for weeks, but it’s not like he can stop now. Mostly because Lotor is stood there with a small expectant smile tucked into his lips. A challenge. It spurs him on. He has to one-up whatever Lotor thinks he’s going to say. So he does.“We should go see Star Wars.”----It begins with group projects, it continues with Star Wars, and it might just end with another non-date date.





	a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away…

**Author's Note:**

> bc Neil's and AJ's comments about keith and lotor in the recent let's voltron podcast made me laugh and i had to write something based on " I'm going through stuff, you're going through stuff, you know what? I think we should go see Star Wars".

“This could be our one chance to beat Lotor!” Keith exclaims passionately as his friends reach for their notebooks and the study room door closes behind Pidge.

Their group study sessions are always evermore serious - and actually relevant without much meandering - when a team assignment is on the horizon. It means one thing, it means that it’s that time again. Across campus, it’s no secret that Team Voltron and Team Sincline are currently the key contenders for the end of year scholarship prize and are _so close_ to attaining the honorary class award.

From the start of the semester, the two groups have butted heads over projects, events, fundraisers constantly caught in a war of one upmanship and the driving urge to defeat each other. Both seem to want what’s best for their programmes, but Keith is being entirely objective when he says that Team Voltron realise the mission better.

Getting this job done efficiently and exceptionally is paramount. As Keith reaches for a pencil, his determination is already smouldering. He doesn’t need to look towards the others to know it’s the same for them too. Within moments he’s scribbling notes down, entirely focused on the task. Enough not to notice Lance hovering over his shoulder and being nosy.

“ _How_ do you have a plan drawn up and two contingencies already?” Lance asks in awe and a pinch of annoyance. “Shiro isn’t even _here_ yet! Technically, our meeting hasn’t even started!” Pause. Lance squints. “ _Who are you?”_

Lance has a point. Keith’s a hardworker, but he’s also resourceful and efficient. Nothing about this is efficient. It’s _excessive._ Charging into a group assignment like this only happens when the stakes are high. Whilst it’s not about scoring points, it’s about making the best piece of work they can produce, the extra incentive always helps. Putting an end to Lotor and his team’s supreme reign definitely is a motivation.

Keith can’t deny that it adds to his drive. The whole team is probably aware of that. Shiro slips into the room then, bearing hot beverages for them all. As he sits beside Keith, he laughs in fond _knowing_ exasperation. What Shiro thinks he knows, Keith isn’t sure. But Shiro _knows_ Keith better than anyone, so he makes note to question it later. 

“This isn’t just about Lotor, Keith.”

 _“I know that._ But we can’t let him keep outsmarting us,” Keith says simply, setting down his pencil and holding up his notebook to reveal his scribbles. “So if you guys wanna beat Sincline then _this_ is how we settle the score.”

\---

Keith’s plan is a success. The team follow him and together their idea takes shape into something worth being proud of. Not only that, it’s their highest score on a group assignment for weeks. Team Voltron pass with flying colours. So much so that they’re at the top of the board for marks this time round. Keith belatedly realises that means _they finally beat Lotor._

As Professor Alfor reveals the test averages with discretion, but not enough to ignore the well-acknowledged feud between Team Voltron and Team Sincline, students murmur between themselves at the news. They’re sat on opposite sides of the room, like a proper competitive event. Keith thinks that’s a little over the top, but Lance once said it reduced the chance of a spy infiltrating them or destroying their next project. Keith does understand that logic. There's truth in it.

Turning to Shiro, Keith tugs his sleeve.

“Hey,” he begins, unsure why his skin feels hot and itchy when he spots  Lotor glancing over. Still, he’s grinning elatedly. “We actually _did it.”_

“All thanks to you,” Shiro smiles warmly, slinging an around his best friend. “I’m proud of you. You made this project our best success yet, and you led the group so well.”

It’s then Keith realises they’re talking about slightly different things.

“Yeah. But - I mean,” wetting his lips, Keith steals another look over to the other side of the room. _“We finally beat Lotor.”_

For reasons Keith doesn’t understand, Shiro looks physically pained. His eyebrows crinkle together, and a hand comes up to pinch the bridge of his nose. Keith thinks he hears a murmuring of ‘ _give me strength’,_ but he could be wrong. Whatever Shiro is lamenting, it’s clearly something Keith has no context for. Raising an eyebrow curiously, Keith probes.

“What is it?”

Shiro lowers his hand, smiling over at Keith. It’s tentative, which gives Keith the sense he’s about to do some probing of his own once he gets the full go ahead.

“Nothing much,” _s_ _omething big,_ then. “I just noticed that Lotor looks pretty impressed with our results.” _Your results,_ goes unsaid. Keith honestly isn’t sure why the distinction is so important.

As Keith risks a glance over to Lotor, their eyes meet. There’s a curt yet respectful nod. Keith isn’t sure how to interpret that gesture. _It’s got to mean something._ A trick, or some way to catch them off guard for next time.

Best to stay wary, cautious.

\---

This tirade continues for another semester.

Then classes and modules are shuffled, and Keith finds his schedule no longer aligns with Lotor's.

It should be a good thing, really. It is.

That’s why Keith can’t help be utterly _bewildered_ when his eyes keeping drifting over to Lotor’s empty corner during the first lecture.

\---

Grocery shopping is a chore Keith only forces himself to do when absolutely necessary. Being on his last can of ravioli and low on cherry soda is cause for a restocking of oversalted tinned goods and the promise of high cholesterol. Cooking has never really been his forte. Or Shiro's. So given the lack of food, their flat is currently in a bit of a pinch. Ordering takeout three nights in a row might just be pushing it. 

But little does Keith know, this shop will be a turning point in what has been a relatively stale, unmemorable week.

It always happens in places like this. The beginning of something unexpected. If Keith entertained cliches or watched rom-coms, then he would’ve been more prepared for this moment. Alas, he didn’t. So he isn’t. Charging through the present without hindsight or a level of predictability makes it all the more interesting, anyway. Even so, nothing could've prepared him for practically walking straight into Lotor as he rounds the next corner. 

“What are you doing here?” Keith asks, and immediately regrets it because it’s too accusatory and _this is a grocery store_.

It’s then Keith realises it’s the first time they’ve ever spoken one-on-one before. And suddenly, the passionate declarations to defeat Lotor in their previous module seems humiliating. The level of devotion Keith had poured into that task is probably palpable to Lotor. But Keith takes his grades seriously, contrary to the popular opinion whilst at school - so that’s his excuse.

Apparently, having a resting scowl-face does one no favours. Keith likes to think he doesn’t scowl a lot. Not really. He just doesn’t see the point or need to smile all the time for the sake of appeasing others. And when he’s deep in thought, it’s not uncommon for eyebrows to knit together and concentration to smear all over his face. Smiling isn’t always necessary. But it doesn’t mean Keith is _mean_ or _cold._

Anyway.

The answer to the question is obvious enough, and Lotor seems to think so too.

“You’re a clever boy. I trust you can piece this puzzle together sufficiently.”

Lotor doesn’t press the issue further, smiling in a wry way. _Clever boy._ That feels teasing, in a way that’s different to Lance’s remarks. Flirtatious without facade. Perhaps Keith heard wrong. He isn’t sure. Blinking, he struggles to find a good response to that. It doesn’t help that every single thing he has crafted into his personal impression of what Lotor is like has been totally decimated in the space of a few seconds.

“Yeah.”

It’s almost if Lotor has a handful of different answers and would rather dangle them precariously close to Keith’s curiosity as opposed to just give them up. Dangerously, wonderfully, elusive. Keith tugs the thread, and Lotor might just give an inch. Nudging past Keith, despite there being plenty of room to move past and avoid brushing shoulders, Lotor continues.

“I’ve actually found myself trapped in the clutches of existentialism. And so, I’m deliberating which flavour of ice cream would be most appropriate to buy in bulk for a single sitting.“

At a complete loss on what to say to that besides a pitiful “oh”, Keith purses his lips.  

That’s a joke - an extremely eloquently-worded one at that, too. Keith feels out of his depth here. He's got a silver tongue of his own, laced with cutting sarcasm when needs be. But he's currently clashing blades with a true wordsmith. Quick-witted and cunning. He’ll catch up sooner or later. Keith always does. For now, the thrill of jumping these unspoken hurdles has him admittedly ensnared.

“Here,” It’s with inexplicable trembling palms that Keith picks up a tub of mint chocolate chip and places it into Lotor’s hands. God. _What_ is he doing? He never fares this well with new people in conversations. And yet. There is something so _comfortably_ uncomfortable about all of this. “A litre of this will knock the existence out of you.”

That sounds a thousand times ruder than intended because _that’s not the right word_ and Keith’s mind is reeling for the life - or _existence -_ of him he cannot recall the right one. Frowning at his blunders, Keith tries again. _Damn this._

“I meant existent-”

“-I’m aware,” Lotor’s lips twitch. “But destroying my own existence as opposed to existentialism works much better.” Ah. The ever-bleak millennial humour. Shiro would be proud. “Thank you Keith.”

There’s a picture of Obi-Wan on the front of the tub, clearly a push for the recently rebooted prequels because the additional episodes seven to nine just weren't enough, apparently. Keith hasn’t formed an opinion on it all yet. There’s enough controversy surrounding the original prequels.

“Help me Obi-Wan,” Lotor says blithely to the ice cream tub. “You’re my only hope.”

_Oh my god._

“I’d bet on Mace, personally.” Keith picks up a tub of his own, poorly stifling the bemused laugh dancing over his voice. Of all people, he had not seen that coming from _Lotor._ Glancing down at the ice cream, Lotor raises an eyebrow. Questioning. Keith came here with no intentions of buying ice cream. But here he is. Giving in. To quite a few things. 

“Look, exam season is approaching. I’m going through stuff, you’re going through stuff.”

Lotor laughs at that, it’s a delicate refined sound. Bell-like yet crisp, a vast contrast to the intense raw rasp embedded in Keith’s voice. He wants to hear it again.

“You know what? There’s only one thing to do.” Keith bites his lip, a wave of apprehension faltering his composure. This is silly and completely reckless. It’s the most heedless thing he’s done for weeks, but it’s not like he can stop now. Mostly because Lotor is stood there with a small expectant smile tucked into his lips. A challenge. It spurs him on. He has to one-up whatever Lotor thinks he’s _going_ to say. So he does.

“We should go see Star Wars."

Keith has no idea where this comes from. But Lotor has piqued his curiosity and _finally_ he might have a chance to investigate further and figure out just what exactly it is about this guy that somehow gripped his attention without much effort. From day one. Not many people besides Shiro have been able to do that.

Lotor is clearly surprised, unable to mask it for a few moments. _Boom._ It’s all the proof Keith needs. The bar has been set now. By making such an outlandish request, Keith has pushed them a little further towards new territory. They could pedal back to where they were, which was _nowhere,_ or explore this new avenue. Keith’s always had a taste for adventure and familiarising himself with the unknown. It's a good call. 

“There’s a showing in less than an hour’s time,” Lotor offers. It’s somewhat suspicious he has that information to hand so readily, but there’s absolutely no way anybody could’ve _predicted_ this. Even Lotor. That’s just impossible. Thus, Keith doesn’t think much of it. Instead he’s openly surprised, because in no reality did he think Lotor would actually _agree_ and raise the odds all over again _._ Well. Okay. _Yeah._ Okay. Nodding weakly, hands more clammy than he’d care to admit, Keith pulls a lopsided smile onto his face. 

“Let’s do it.”

\---

When they get to the register to pay, they go halves on tickets. Keith’s grateful for that much, at least. This whole thing is spontaneous and surreal _enough._ Though, having said that, they also go halves on popcorn. Conveniently, they have the same preference for salted over sweet. It’s practical, and it doesn’t matter that all the couples around them are also going halves. This arrangement is completely logical. Saving cash whilst enjoying a cinema snack. That's all. 

As the lights dim in preparation for the movie, Keith wonders if it matters so much that their shoulders are more often bumping than not. Cinema etiquette isn’t something he’s familiar with. And missing social cues is something that happens frequently. Lotor doesn’t seem to mind their proximity however, so Keith makes no move to shift position. They sit in silence for a while as adverts start up. It’s not awkward, or strained. It’s pretty nice.

Then, as an advert for a toy laser gun comes on screen, Keith gets the biggest disappointment of his entire life. Holding up a hand, Lotor shapes a gun with two fingers and points in Keith’s direction. Fingers brush against his ear as the mock-trigger is pulled.

“Choom choom.”

If there ever was a deal breaker for anything in life - be it new friendships or _whatever the hell_ this is - it’s that sound _._

“No,” Keith automatically says, snapping his eyes towards Lotor. He’s foolish to think he’ll be free from this, but _of course not._ “If that - if that’s supposed to be a laser gun, _I’m out of here.”_

“Please. Keith, it’s entirely accurate.”

“ _No, it’s not!_ _”_ Maybe Keith is too insistent and enthusiastic about this, but Lotor doesn’t understand. His friends have subjected him to _terrible laser gun sound effects_ for the most part of three years. No matter how many times Keith attempts to put an end to it, they always up the volume and tempo on purpose. It’s become one of the quickest ways to vex him. “Laser guns don’t make that sound.”

“And what sound do they make, Keith?”

Ha. _Nice try._ Keith folds his arms, private amusement flashing in his eyes. It’s been a long-term goal of his friends to discover what Keith’s laser gun noise sounds like. Under no circumstances is he revealing that information to anyone.

“That’s top secret.” It’s playful, and Keith can’t stop the smirk spreading over his face.

“And _that_ hardly seems fair,” Lotor hums thoughtfully. “Here I am bearing the darkest corners of my soul whilst you evade all public infamy.”

Keith shrugs, pulse thrumming a little faster in his veins as he taps the rhythm out on the armrest. The couple in front of them are sharing popcorn just like them. But people share popcorn all the time. It’s just popcorn. This is just a movie.

“Adds to the mystery.”

The words slip out without Keith’s permission and _god_ he sounds something close to coy. _Where is this coming from?_

“That it does,” Lotor muses with a coyness of his own. Before Keith can process that, process what _he_ just said, the moment passes. “Perhaps now we will discover the true sound laser guns make.”

Grinning, Keith leans back in his seat. The lack of smalltalk is refreshing. No forced questions with equally forced answers. It’s not that hard to engage with the conversation, especially since the subject at hand concerns dragging Team Voltron and their awful laser noises. Above all, as the opening titles play out on the screen, Keith convinces himself this outing is merely a pursuit of knowledge. For science. This is all for science.

Laser gun science.

\---

Keith dislikes the library. But an unplanned trip to the movies last night means he now has to put in double time to catch up with the reading he’s close to falling behind on. _Ugh,_ textbook reading. Whilst fond of books, academic reading makes his head hurt. Every other word is three time too long, and each sentence feels like an essay in itself. Skimming to the next page in his textbook, Keith slips into a well-paced routine of reading and note-taking. He's doing well. This is fine. If he keeps up this pace he'll be on track earlier than expected and-

“- _You.”_ Well. There goes all chances of studying. Pointedly, Keith keeps his head down. “You have some explaining to do!”

Lance slams his hands down on the desk dramatically. Keith looks up slowly, quirking an eyebrow in the way he knows will automatically rile Lance further. It does. Lance jolts back as if scorned. Amazing. Nowadays, with their friendship more solid than Keith ever thought it could be, it’s too easy. Besides, Lance gave him at least two years of genuine animosity at the start. Bridges have been built and mutual insecurities touched upon together. But sometimes amicable pettiness is a gift not a curse. If anything, Keith is just getting even here. That’s all. If he gets some amusement from it, even better.

“ _Don’t_ give me that look, Keith.”

Keith throws in a pout for good measure, leaning his chin on his hands. He feigns innocence and cocks his head.

“What look?”

“You’re despicable-”

“-Me?” Keith’s lips twitch as he makes the reference. Lance _hates it_ when Keith proves he’s not the hermit everyone thinks he is. Pointing a finger accusingly, Lance glowers.

“Don’t change the subject and be a smartass!” Pulling up a seat, he sits down. “I’m not leaving until I get an explanation.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Keith replies flatly because _he doesn’t._ And knowing Lance, there could be a thousand and one different reasons he’s marched into the library to interrogate Keith. Interrogate, yes _absolutely -_ because Keith’s been on this side of doom before after using the remainders of Hunk’s Holy Hot Sauce - Lance’s favourite and most sacred kitchen ingredient - in all the mac and cheese.

“Deception,” Lance half-sings.

People are starting to stare and that’s where Keith decides to draw the line. He’s sabotaged himself enough with this project by choosing Star Wars over groceries, _amongst other things._

“Disgrace-”

Keith knows exactly what Lance is talking about. It’s worse that his poker face sucks and everything is splayed out for his annoyingly perceptive friend to see. Averting his gaze, Keith purses his lips. That’s the biggest giveaway, he _knows it,_ but it’s better than giving Lance the satisfaction of coming to conclusions just by looking into his eyes.

“Evil as plain as the-”

“ _-Lance_ ,” he hisses in a low voice, attempting to school his expression into something close to neutral and risk looking up. He fails. Irritation is bubbling in his chest. It’s the worst and most irksome song in Lion King II, overrated and overdone, but everybody else seems to love it. There are better songs. But that's not important right now. As Keith’s eyes trail up, Lance leans over the table.

“-Just admit it Keith! You’ve been fraternising with the enemy!”

Tossing his hands up in exasperation because Lance just refuses to _let him live,_ Keith throws caution to the wind and snaps back.

“What’s the big deal? It was just a movie! Lotor’s not even in our class anymore. He hasn’t been for _months!_ There’s no way he could ruin our group project!”

Now _that_ has people turning to them in interest.

Keith’s fingers twitch, hand close to covering his mouth in shock because _shit._ Eyes widen in realisation. Those were not the words he had planned to say. They toppled out without thought in the heat of the moment, and now it’s in the open and Lance has won this. What’s more, half the students around are most certainly going to gossip now. Not that Keith cares, but if it gets back to _Lotor_ somehow then it’ll just be embarrassing and horrible. And _embarrassing -_ did he say embarrassing already because that’s what it will be. Embarrassing. Overall, it’s the ultimate victory for Lance. Keith is never going to live this one down.

Despite the outburst, Lance doesn’t react as expected. Instead, he drags a hand down his face, sighing.

“Keith. I know that look. That’s the look that had Timon and Pumba crying in the rainforest about losing their best friend.”

Apparently, the movie franchise of the day to reference is the Lion King. Keith would follow through and join the trend - though surely it’s more topical to quote Star Wars - but the implication of Lance’s words have him almost losing balance on the chair he’s leaning forwards on. _What._ Gracelessly, Keith splutters and trips over the words racing to the forefront of his mouth. Well. It’s better than tripping over his own feet. Good thing they’re sat down.  

“That - that’s _ridiculous!_ I - I don’t even _like-”_

The words burn to ash on Keith’s tongue, and the sentence abruptly cuts off. Keith’s not a natural liar. He’s terrible at it and dishonesty for the sake of self-preservation is something he simply is hideous at. He says what he means, and he doesn’t sugarcoat. It’s always been an asset. Until now. To tell Lance he doesn’t like Lotor just isn’t something he can do. Because _god -_ now he’s actually thinking about it - it smacks into him. Hard. An unpleasant epiphany. Oh _god._ It’s almost too much. He likes Lotor. Worse, he might actually _like_ Lotor.

He also wouldn’t be averse to hanging out again sometime.

Soon.

“This is terrible,” Lance rakes a hand through his hair.

“This is terrible,” Keith agrees, heart picking up speed without permission and pulse rocketing. He feels like all of him is riding a livewire and all it will take to unravel the rest of him is one tiny spark. This conversation might just be that spark. His words are combustible. The revelations are explosive.

“No, _no._ Wait a minute. Keith. You know what this means...”

And something Actually Terrible happens in that moment. Lance’s expression of exaggerated despair vanishes. In its place is something coy, _mischievous._ Eyebrows waggle. Then comes _the grin._ Hastily, Keith scoops his belongings into his bag and bolts towards the exit. Maybe it’s a little on the Extra side of things, but Keith has always been all in. Right now he’s _all in_ for getting out of here before Lance can-

There’s a light pull on the straps of his bag, and Lance uses his grip to his advantage. Suddenly by Keith’s side, matching the brisk pace down the steps, Lance slings an arm around Keith.

“Thanks, Keith. I was running out of good material, and you’ve just given me so much to work with. Tell me, when’s date number two?”

“It - it wasn’t a _date_ , Lance!” Keith replies hastily, prying Lance’s arm off him.

"Sounds like something people who go on secret dates would say." 

" _I'm serious!_ It wasn't a date, and even if it was it doesn't matter because there won't be another one, okay?" 

Of course, it’s right there and then Lotor abruptly materialises from seemingly thin air. Keith sincerely pleads to every higher power in the universe that none of the previous conversation was overheard.

“Oh, Keith.” A subtle smile graces Lotor’s lips. “Fancy meeting you here.”

“Not really.” It isn’t intended to be so blunt, it’s just the _truth._ The campus is large but not _that large._ It’s not uncommon to bump into people at all.  Keith is tired from stewing over ice cream everything the movie non-date date entailed, and his filter is diminished in the presence of exhaustion. He's also a little mortified, trying to gauge whether Lotor heard them talking or not. An apology is already forming on Keith’s lips, but Lotor gets there first (no, _no -_ not to his lips).

“You’re right. Though I’m glad we crossed paths.”

“Yeah. I-”

Lance glances between the pair of them, leaning against Keith so he can prod his elbow teasingly into his side. Encouragingly, maybe. It’s annoying either way. Keith lightly swats him away. Lance pokes him in the ribs, making him jolt visibly in surprise. It’s only fair Keith shoves his shoulder into Lance’s and almost has them both scrambling for balance when Lance nudges him -  _towards Lotor -_  with a grin.

“Me uh, me too,” he finishes clumsily as Lance treads on his foot in retaliation. Shooting his _soon-to-be-demoted_ friend a scathing glare, Keith gathers up the scraps of whatever dignity he has left. God. This is so _uncool._

Somehow, Lotor doesn’t seemed deterred by the dynamic disastrous double act.

“My next lecture has unfortunately been cancelled, I don’t suppose you have time to join me for lunch?”

“Sure, lead the way,” he answers smoothly despite stomach churning and hands tingling. Maybe he responded too quickly. Maybe he didn’t. Anything to get away from Lance’s insufferable smug expression. Just because Lance _might be right_ doesn’t mean he should rub it in _in front of Lotor._ That’s not how they play the game. But rest assured, Keith will get him back when Lance least expects it.

“Catch you later,” he calls over his shoulder, falling into step with Lotor.

As the pair of them walk towards their destination, quite possible non-date date number two, Keith’s phone flashes. It’s from Lance.

 **[Text]** omg. Keith. KEITH. I just realised. his next lecture starts in ten minutes, I’m IN that lecture. It’s with Sendak.

 **[Text]** IT’S NOT CANCELLED. I JUST CHECKED.

 **[Text]** HE’S SKIPPING CLASS TO SPEND TIME WITH YOU.

 **[Text]** no one skips sendak’s class and lives to tell the tale rip

Tucking his phone back into his pocket, newfound confidence brewing, Keith glances over to Lotor. He’s greeted by an enigmatic smile. Silent confirmation occurs between them when they stop outside the pizza place. Unexpectedly, Lotor even holds the door open for Keith as they go inside. And really. Subtlety is nice and all, but a more direct approach might be best here.

“Didn’t take you for the kind to cut class. Yet alone Sendak’s.”

Lotor stiffens as they find a table. And that’s partly why Keith opts for trying to make some kind of joke. It could be too early in their interactions to start having inside jokes, but Keith’s never really been one to strictly follow the status quo.

“May the force be with you.”

“Live long and prosper,” Lotor replies without hesitation, drawing a small peal of laughter from Keith at the absurdity of it all.

It’s in this moment, despite barely beginning the second, that Keith thinks that he would quite like to have a third non-date date. 


End file.
